When: Thursday, September 11, 1pm-3pm EST
Where: Americans for UNFPA blog (www.americansforunfpa.blogspot.com)
What: An interactive online forum, moderated by Rita Henley Jensen of Women’s eNew
Today was short and marked by several problems such as our translator canceling Tanitra’s ticket back to New York. Dr. Elu decided today – of all the days that she has spent in Oaxaca – she wanted to go to the Santo Domingo Church. We sent our camera guy along and I think he’s talented enough to turn the half hour she spent in the gift shop into good footage.
On our last day here we were lucky enough to catch a documentary about the teachers uprising 2 years ago. I was amazed to see so many women out on the streets protesting, try to stop the military from entering the city, and setting up food and aid stations. As we walked around the city you could still see evidence of the teachers strike, the economy has not fully recovered.
Since it was a short day, I’ll take this opportunity to make one final point about Mexico and reproductive health. Less than one percent of Mexico’s population is infected with HIV (like Niger where I visited last year). This is what they call a contained epidemic, still largely within the community of men who have sex with men and now sex workers. Like Niger, Mexico is spending a great deal of energy on HIV prevention, particularly among young people, before the epidemic spreads. (A concern is that some of the men who immigrate to the U.S. become infected and bring it back to their wives in Mexico.)
In fact, the UNFPA office is preparing for a huge HIV conference in August.
We’ve noticed is that there are no condoms on display in the pharmacies and wonder if there is a stigma involved with buying them and if that means condom use is low.
Early this morning we headed into the mountains to a town called Tlahuitoltepec for a midwives conference. Dr. Elu told us the drive would take 4 hours but we had Mario Andretti behind the wheel and made it in about two and a half. In 45 minutes we went from dry arid land into the lush tropical pine forest. Pines trees in Mexico?!
The town is one of those places where the lack of access to contraception smacks you in the face. There is just no getting around the child to adult ratio (and here, there are very few men).
The Mixtecas seem very stoic to us, though the kids run and scream and, while we were there, most of them spent their time playing soccer in a courtyard where the walls were painted with the words “no playing soccer here.” A few of the women surreptitiously took photos of Tanitra and we think it’s because they don’t often see Asians (she’s been claiming to be from 
Veracruz with some success but I guess she can’t fool the Mixtecas). On a side note, the Mixtecas call themselves "People of the Clouds." They live high up in the mountains beyond the fog. As we were standing on the cliffs we could see whiffs of clouds engulfing the valley below. We tried to be respectful when taking pictures of the Mixtecas. They don't like getting their pictures taken because they believe that their soul is captured in the image.
The regard between Dr. Elu and the midwives is clear. She said when she’s around them she feels happy “because they are the experience and the hope.” But, as is the case all over the world, these women are indigenous and are generally not treated well by the larger society.
The midwives expressed a lot of anger that they are not respected by doctors at health facilities. One talked about how it’s very important to the Mixteca that they bury the placenta when a child is born but at the hospital they just throw it away. This is shocking for the Mixteca but the hospitals seem not to care and so the women prefer to use their traditional midwives.
This area (in the state of Oaxaca) is known for an adult band and a children’s band. We had heard someone warming up on a trumpet for much of the morning and it made me think of how awful it was for my mom when I was learning to play the flute. But, when the band set up and started playing, they were terrific. In fact, I was really impressed that they played several songs without a conductor – that’s quite a feat for musicians with many more years experience.
Today UNFPA hosted a reception for Dr. Elu which was attended by her family, colleagues in the NGO community and some officials of the Ministry of Health.
Dr. Elu is clearly revered and adored. Her husband told us that she is a feminist but he married her anyway. They married three months after meeting each other and will celebrate their 50th anniversary in December.
We thanked our colleagues at the Mexico City UNFPA office for hosting an event that allowed us to announce Dr. Elu’s award but they thanked us and said that because she was selected, it will help them with their work. It’s really nice for us to hear because, as a small organization, as our award only comes with a grant of $5,000. So we’re especially happy if our award offers the imprintur of “international recognition,” as it sometimes helps women who have to struggle against apathy or opposition from their communities and leaders.
This is obviously not true with Dr. Elu. While the government is not great on these issues, there is a support in the Ministry of Health and there is no obvious opposition to Dr. Elu’s work these days.
But we were delighted to hear that because UNFPA’s Mexico City office nominated Dr. Elu and their affiliation with her lends them credibility. Often the idea of being the AMERICANS can be embarrassing and hard to live up to. Rita told us a story of visiting UNFPA program in Bolivia several years ago and a woman who begged the Americans to fix her blind child because she was convinced that they could help. I’ve had similar uncomfortable experiences so it’s nice when we can sometimes spin the expectations into something positive for our friends and colleagues around the world.
Afterwards we had to say goodbye to Aldolfo (who was headed to Chicago with veterinarians to translate for them at a conference) and head to Oaxaca – where Mescal became a constantly offered drink. We were treated to full throttle Maria Carmen at the airport and she can be downright goofy. She makes everyone laugh, even when she’s cutting the line. We don’t even know what she’s saying and it’s funny. (She still retains her Spanish accent and I have trouble understanding her when she’s not speaking English.)
Despite all of us being pretty tired, we attended another love-fest for Dr. Elu where my Spanish had to suffice for Tanitra and Rita (a fate fit for no one) and where we were treated to Dr. Elu’s prowess on the dance floor.
The only agenda item for today was to finally meet Dr. Elu and interview her on camera but we filled up the schedule. It worked out pretty well though we had one of those moments when we needed to leave to make our appointment with Dr. Elu but we risked offending several people. Luckily, our translator, Aldolfo, seems to have figured out how to guide us through these cultural misunderstandings (read: get us to do the right thing) without our realizing he’s doing it so it all worked out.
It’s a good thing we have Aldolfo because I keep speaking Spanish to people – really badly. We were surprise to find out that Aldolfo was the go to guy for reproductive rights translations.
The Mexfam clinic we visited is in a poor neighborhood near Xochimilco, far south but still part of Mexico City. They provide a wide array of services including dental care and, we noted, the board at reception specifically listed Diabetes care. The clinic is clean and well-equipped but there was no water in the bathroom. Yesterday Ofelia acknowledged that Mexico receives less international aid for women’s health because, on paper, it looks as if the country is lowering fertility rates and combating maternal mortality. She also noted the disparity between urban and rural health care and she made a special point of saying that domestic violence is a very big issue for Mexico right now.
At 72 and despite her accident, Dr. Elu seems to maintain a great deal of energy. She bounded down the stairs and greeted us at her offices as if we were her long lost children. Born in Spain, raised in Cuba, she married a Mexican man and has lived here for 50 years. She’s got that warm, encompassing Latina personality that can melt the stiffest of Anglo exterior. And she’s hilarious. She showed us the scar near her hairline from the accident last year and insisted that it is not from a facelift.
And she’s a talker. We didn’t mention that she will only give a two minute speech in New York. I think she might have a heart attack and I’m sure she will pretend not to understand.
After all the interviews were finished we went to the zocalo to get footage of Mexican women. The zocalo is the main plaza in Mexico City and the largest in the Americas. It’s bordered by the anthropological remains of the Aztec’s central temple (Templo Mayor) that Cortez leveled to build the Cathedral and the National Palace where the legislature meets and the President lives.
Because it was too late to go into the National Palace, and because you really shouldn’t be in Mexico City without seeing at least one Diego Rivera mural, we went to the Diego Rivera Museum, which was built to house his masterpiece, Dream of a Sunday in the Alameda. This mural was in a hotel across the street but was moved to this location when the hotel was irreparably damaged by the 1985 earthquake. Paco, our camera guy who is a cameraman for telenovellas in his regular life, had no idea there was a Diego Rivera Museum or where to find it. I’ve started accusing him of being Paco el Bolivián because how can you be Mexican and not know the Diego Rivera Museum, I ask you?
Rita invited us all for a drink at the Opera Bar (probably because I had been raving about it). Tanitra describes the place as opulent. Very old school Mexico. Their claim to fame is a bullet hole in the ceiling, reportedly made by Pancho Villa once when he rode his horse into the place and started shooting. With Aldolfo’s help we talked about Mexican politics, the tax structure (which is severely flawed) and life in Mexico and New York. I have been speaking as much Spanish as I can and people are letting me do it without telling me that it’s like piercing their eardrums with an ice pick.
Mexico City is one of my favorite places so when our jury choose a woman from Mexico as one of our honorees, I was delighted to return to a city that I enjoy so much. My mother claims Mexico City should hire me to run their tourism board. I do understand that not everyone considers the sprawl and crowds of the world’s third largest city to be an ideal vacation spot but I love the art, the fact that you can find it everywhere, the architecture, the mix of old Mexico and super hip Mexico. It’s everything I love about New York, only Latino and fantastic in that way.
My reason for coming is Maria del Carmen Elu Cayado, a social anthropologist who brought the problem of maternal mortality into the light in Mexico and forced the government to add it to their national health plans. She was actually selected to be one of our 2007 honorees but before we could contact her, she was in a terrible accident. While driving in Chiapas a bolder fell on the car. She was near death but pulled through. We postponed her award until this year to give her time to recover.
Tanitra, our web maven and my Barometer-of-Cool, is also coming on this trip to learn more about video production. Also, we invited one of our board members, Rita O’Connor to join us. I came a few days early as the last time I had a business trip to Mexico City (back before the Jack Abramoff scandal and the new ethic rules in the House of Representatives that prevent us from taking members of Congress to see UNFPA’s work) I was frustrated at not having a free hour to stroll this city. So I came early and by the time Tanitra arrived Sunday I had already wandered my favorite streets, eaten at some of the city’s trendiest restaurants (thanks to my hipster cousin and traveling companion) and climbed the Piramide del Sol at Teotihuacan. Unfortunately, and to the chagrin of some good friends who were in Mexico City a few weeks ago, I did not get to the Lucha Libre (which means free wrestling and by that they don’t mean it doesn’t cost anything.)
On paper, and in some concrete ways, Mexico is the success story of women’s health. From a fertility rate of more than seven children per woman, the country has lowered the rate to just over two per woman (the same as the United States). But, as Dr. Elu and my colleagues in the UNFPA Mexico City office continually point out, there is a huge disparity between urban and rural women and one fifth of all Mexican women live in Mexico City. So the statistics are skewed to make it seem as if Mexico has transformed their health care system when this is only true in metropolitan areas.
With no specific agenda on Monday, Tanitra and I decided to take a laptop to Mexfam (the Mexico Family Planning Organization, part of the International Planned Parenthood Federation) and see if we could get them interested in our Lifelines project. We met with Ofelia Aguilar, the Director of Operations, and explained that we are trying to build a community of women who are not classified as givers and receivers of aid, but as individuals learning from each other and that, because of the challenging issues of Mexican immigrants in the United States, we thought it would be really great to have some strong, accomplished Mexican women highlighted.
We got a lot of support from the women at Mexfam, even Ofelia who allowed us to post her Lifeline. One of the directors invited us to her clinic tomorrow to interview two of her doctors.
These women only speak Spanish and have graciously allowed us to post their stories in English. This is generous of them. And I also want to point out that it would not have been possible without our excellent translator Adolfo, who is apparently, friends with everyone in Mexico City who works on women’s health issues. Everywhere we went in Mexfam’s considerably large (and beautiful) office compound people waved and greeted him by name.
Check out the Lifelines we got – just search on Mexico.
